


Vampires Interviews and Goodbyes

by Dr_Psyche



Series: Welcome to Homestuck [6]
Category: Homestuck, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:39:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Psyche/pseuds/Dr_Psyche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A witch/author walks into the studio, mind a mess of eldritch agendas and hands stained with Pink and Jade. A shouty little troll, sentenced unjustly to the mineshaft. A vacant bed covered in blood. The Whispering forest trembles in fear of the figure who's carved wounds into their skin, whispering of the dreaded and mysterious Ohh Tee Pee. And some other stupid stuff with a clown religion happens over at Desert Bluffs, but who cares, that's Desert Bluffs. Welcome To Night Vale."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The True unending pain of Tree Graffiti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a tree has a blade dragged through it and no one can hear, did it make a sound?

The Whispering Forest is a powerful hive minded eldritch location. All who enter hear the whispers of this forest, its temptations, promising the visitor a better life. These are hallow promises, for as soon as one takes them up on these offers, their minds alter, and so do their bodies. Soon, body and mind are now one with the collective, one with the Whispering Forest. The voices compliment, pander to, and promise, they do so to lure you in, to claim you, to add to their trees.

But not today. Today, those whispers are of fear, they are of dread, they are of the one they have deemed the Carver. The Carver resists their whispers through unknown means; the Carver is immune to their temptation. The Carver hurts them, it cuts into their bark, their skin, and carves words and symbols who’s meaning is lost to them. The wounds speak of foreign emotions, lost to the trees. They speak of love, friendship, and of the legendary thing known only as O.T.P.

She has done this for hours, unrelenting in the pain she issues. They have pleaded with her to join them to end all her earthly attachments, but she will not acknowledge them but for the blank canvas they are. Another drag of the blade, wood shavings fall to the forest floor, the whispers are of pain.

The Carver has departed now, but her marks are on all of them, they may grow, they may gain more followers to their lifestyle, but her marks will always remain. The evidence of what she did to them, the slicing the wounding, they will forever adorn them forever reminding of their shame. They will always remain.

She has left, but her symbols remain, who is Sherlock, who is Watson, and why are their names surrounded by a heart? The answer shall remain mysterious. As were her last words.

“(=^*w*^=) THIS WAS FURUN! I WONDER WHAT KHOSHEHK IS DOING? I WANNA SEE THAT KITTY SO BAD!!!!!!!!!" 

On other days, visitors will look at the markings and question them. The Forest would let out a wail and condemn the traveller. Sometimes the saplings would be told tales of the dreaded Carver and how she would come to saplings that were naughty. The elders would recite tales of the event, how they witnessed the horror of the Carver, how she could resist them far more than cable TV. Thought now she has gone, taking her F33LS with her. The Forest breathes a collective sigh of relief, and prays that the Carver never returns.


	2. Be Our Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat has eluded the Sheriff's Secret Police, or has he?

Old Woman Josie walked through the halls of the hotel. She had come up because her tall friends told her to. The man at the counter with the far off stare had not noticed her, the cleaning lady who’s husband may have been melted down into chemicals, did not notice her. The bellhop passed by without a second thought. All was quiet.

Then she reached the room, the witch’s room.

The door was locked, but she had the key card, the Angels had given it to her. She opened the door.

The first thing she noticed was the arrangement of soda cans from the minibar spread out on the floor, into some kind of town. She saw the Faceless Old Woman Who Is Temporarily Living In This Hotel Room, making observations about where to put these cans. It is a Mayor’s job after all.

Josie nods to her, as they are familiar with one another.

She looks at the discarded bits of fabric, and a sewing machine. There’s a project, so near completion, left out. Some clothes are on the floor near the entrance to the bedroom and Josie steps over them to get in. Inside she sees the bed, soaked through with Jade fluid, and 

it 

is 

vacant.

[Previously]

The Carcasses have been placed inside the evidence locker/meat freezer for the Sherriff’s Secret Police. 

A fist burst out of a carcass and Karkat dragged himself out.

“THIS IS THE LAST FUCKING TIME I EVER LISTEN TO MEULIN.” He shouted.

He extracted himself from the carcass and into the refrigerated Evidence Locker. There was a number of animal corpses, human corpses that they were too lazy to perform Autopsy’s on, and a half eaten lunch in a plastic take-out container, one officer left.

“NOW WHAT! I SHOULD PROBABLY FIND KANAYA.” He said, looking about.

He left the carcass and went to the door, trying it, only to find it was locked on the other side. Sheriff’s Secret Police don’t put much value on two-way opening doors.

He went to the other end of the meat locker, the cold air was making a swirling fog at his feet, the cow carcasses with the gouged out eyes, seemed to follow him with their sockets.

“THIS PLACE IS CREEPY.” He thought to himself, wandering about.

The dead animals hung from hooks swayed slightly as he passed them. Soon the rows of dead cows gave way to dead pigs, then dead chickens, strung together with razor wire in columns of four, hanging from the hooks, their empty eye-sockets tracing his every move. Soon, they to gave way to other carcasses, of animals he couldn’t recognize, one had three heads, two deer, one cheetah, skin stripped from it like the other animals. The skinned animals began to get more and more bizarre, multi-headed serpents were strung up horizontally, along multiple hooks, one was 15 feet long. 

Karkat took his eyes away from the creature to look at the end of the meat locker, it was too far off to see, and then the sheer size of the place hit him, he could barely see the entrance with how far he’d walked. More over, the mist had risen to his waste.

Karkat thought he should probably turn back, then he felt something graze his leg, and he knew he should probably turn back.

He did so… quite quickly.

Karkat jogged, and then sprinted toward the door, passing by the snake, the chickens, the pigs, the cows, all seemingly staring at him with their eyeless sockets. 

He felt something again, it drew across his back like a claw, just lazily tracing a pattern. 

He increased his run to the door, panicked now. He was so close, but he could feel whatever was behind him breathing on his neck.

The big metal door swung open, and a man, dressed in a flat jacket, uniform, balaclava, goggles and cape came in, and nailed him in the face with a punch. The force of the punch coupled with Karkat’s momentum as he ran to the door, knocked him out cold.

The officer stood over the unconscious troll, and another, much shorter officer, followed him in.

“Hah,” said officer #2 “My plan to put a listening device into my half-eaten Kimchi worked!”

“You just forgot the bug and left it in you’re table scraps, don’t pretend you planned it all along,” Officer 1 said.

“Nah, I totes planned this,” the short officer said.

“Just get the recorder and clean it before the boss finds out,” Officer 1 said, grabbing Karkat by the legs and dragging him out, “Another for the mineshaft.”

Officer 2 shrugged and walked over to his abandoned Kimchi, a disastrously dangerous dish, likely bought from Big Rico’s Pizza. He shifted around the contents, looking for the bug that picked up Karkat’s shouts. It’s a good thing he was shouting clearly and being semi interesting, or else they’d probably not have bothered to get him out of there.

While he was shifting, he didn’t notice the mists swirling and parting behind him, a creature emerging.

Officer 2 finally found the bug, and wiped the Kimchi off it on his uniform, and blew on it a bit. The creature loomed over him, extending a flabby claw.

“There we go,” he said, putting the bug away in his pocket. The officer turned around to be confronted with the large creature.

“Gah!!” he shouted, jumping back, “You scared me there big guy.”

The creature let out a grunt.

“Sorry buddy, you can’t eat the troll, but you can finish the Kimchi, throw-out the styrofoam too, I don’t want the boss to know I was eating on the job again.”

The Creature-That-Dwells-In-The-Sheriff’s-Secret-Police’s-Chilled-Evidence-Locker reached out a hand to grab the case and wolfed it down.

The officer exited, and shut the door behind him.

[later]

Karkat awoke in a cell. He jerked up from his king sized bed and looked around. The rock walls were uneven, suggesting the cell had been carved out rather than built. One wall was bars with a door, sealing him into the cell. There was a nice looking desk, with a computer on it, in one corner, and a TV on a stand in the other. A beanie chair lay in front of the TV. He hopped off the bed onto a lush carpet that covered the floor of the cell (getting rid of that pesky uneven rocky ground) and ran to the cell door.

He tried it, and it was obviously locked.

“WHERE THE FUCK AM I?” he shouted.

Karkat looked around frantically at his luxurious prison sweet, only the finest for Prisoners of the Sheriff’s Secret Police.

He grabbed at the bars and shook them. This accomplishes nothing as the door has already established to be locked.

“HEY LET ME OUT, NOW!” Karkat shouted.

“Hey, shut up over there, I’m watching this,” one prisoner just out of Karkat’s vision shouted.

“Yeah buddy, you woke up in jail, big deal, save your screaming for the torture cubicles,” another prisoner shouted, this one Karkat could see.

“WHERE AM I?” Karkat shouted at them.

“Look, there’s an info tape under the Television, just play it,” The first prisoner yelled.

Krkat grumbled to himself and went to the Television. It rested atop a glass case with several DVDs, among them, the full CSI Miami, Homicide, and Law and Order Series. A big white cased DVD was labeled “Watch Me First.”

Karkat put it into the fabulous DVD and Blu-Ray player, turned the TV on, and pressed play on the remote.

A figure appeared on the screen, donned in a Kevlar jacket, official uniform, cape, Balaclava, Sunglasses, and Sheriff’s badge.

“Hi there,” the figure said, “I’m the Sherriff of Night Vale’s Secret Police. Now you may be wondering, where am I, how did I get here, and why is there a slithering feeling in my stomach? Well, I can’t answer the last one, you’ll have to take that up with the world Government.”

A message in red appeared on the screen (No Longer Applicable)

“But I’ll tell you where you are. You’re in an abandoned Mine Shaft a bit out of the way of our dear town of Night Vale. You’re here because you have committed a crime, possibly a thought crime, in fact it was very likely a thought crime. You’ve clearly had too much to think.”

“Anyway, we take pride in our prison accommodations, and we hope you get the best treatment that money can buy. Now we’ve comfortably carpeted your cell, provided you with a King Sized bed, and a desktop computer with Wi-Fi connection. This Television comes with cable and on-demand shows, like HBO, where you can watch many shows like The Wire or Game of Thrones. In addition, we have DVDs of other classic television. Meals are delivered in your cells, and if you press the menu button on your remote and scroll to the food section, you can choose from a variety of different meals and have them delivered to your cell. We also take pride in our four star kitchen, with meals from some of the finest chefs Night Vale has to offer. You’re cell has a built in bathroom in the right corner, with a lockable door for privacy, self cleaning toilet, 7 rolls of Toilet paper, with the ability to order more via remote, cleaning wipes, Fresh-deodorant, air-freshener, shower with detachable head, shampoo, conditioner, and soap both in dispenser and bar form.”

“We here at the Sheriff’s Secret Police do hope you enjoy your stay, and we’d like to remind you, we reserve the right to take you from this comforting experience and drag you off to our torture chambers at our leisure, usually when we get bored on a slow day. Have a nice day.”

The tape cut off and the screen went dark. Karkat switched it off and put the DVD away.

“WELL FUCK,” He said, plopping himself down on the bed, idly messing with the remote.

“HOW AM I GOING TO GET TO KANAYA NOW.” He thought to himself, “PERHAPS I COULD TRY TROLLSLUM AND-”

The menu was flipping to the Romantic Comedy section, and suddenly, Meg Ryan’s Face stood before him with the film French Kiss. Will she win back the love of her life who had left her for an affair in France, or will the dashing con-man that’s helping her sweep her off her feet in a beautifully built up moment of affection. Karkat had seen the movie 14 times already, but there was the fifteenth, and he just had to.

And so Karkat sat on his plush comfy beanie and watched RomComs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat, sadly, could not resist the allure of Meg Ryan.


End file.
